Tango
by Eric Draven201
Summary: Dante's dance with death. Rated for blood more than anything. Oneshot.


Tango

Once again, Dante had underestimated his opponent. He had sent Lady ahead to do battle with lesser demons while he took on their general. Sure the once armored devil was now a steaming pile of ash on the ground, but he did make some vital blows and run the half-devil through with a massive sword. And boy did Dante know that he was going to pay for his mistakes now.

At first he thought it best to ignore his injuries... at least until he went home. A no go. He wasn't healing as quickly as he liked. In fact, it seemed as if he wasn't healing at all and the pain was getting to him. It was getting harder to breathe for one thing and he was pretty sure that he had a collapsed lung. For every painful breath he took, he could hear a high-pitched sucking sound emanating from his chest as his now useless lung was helplessly flapping against his ribcage. It was trying grasp for air only to have it replaced by a profusion of blood.

With only one lung working, Dante tried his best to hobble down an empty corridor using Rebellion as a crutch and a wall as a guide. An alarming amount of blood trailed him as more stridulous sounds echoed down the cavernous halls. He managed to get at least halfway through the passageway before collapsing. "Just keep moving," he told himself as he tried to get up again. He feared if he rested, even for a second, he wouldn't be able to move again. He fear that he would bleed out and die. He dug Rebellion into the ground and used it to pull himself up. That didn't work either, for he was losing his balance. He put his back to the wall and slid down to the floor, still firmly gripping onto his sword's hilt. He put his head against the flat edge of the sword and closed his eyes.

Was it a prayer to his maker? Would he bother? From a young age, Dante always figured that God couldn't be bothered with him because he was a half-devil. He also believed that no matter how much good he did in the world, he would still be condemned to Hell. But what about now in his time of need? What still pushes him to do the right thing?

He chuckled now at irony of his situation. He had survived for so long and fought countless battles. He had done combat against demons that were much tougher than this general and now he was going to die right where he sat, from a lucky hit that a _peon_ had managed to land.

Sleep never felt as good as it did right now. He knew that if he closed his eyes now that he may never wake up again. _Rest... just a little –_

"Dante?" He felt a slender hand touch his shoulder lightly and he slightly opened his eyes.

"Oh, hey Lady," he gasped lightly at nearly every other word, "how'd it go... on your end?"

"Got 'em all. How about your general?" Lady saw that she was standing in a puddle of his blood and than he was the palest that she had ever seen him. She could see that he was badly injured and every breath he made was a struggle. Lady could only hope that he was somehow healing.

He took a deep, labored breath and said, "See for yourself... nothing but a pile of dust." Him speaking brought on a flare-up of coughs. His lungs were on fire. The coughing in turn made him instinctively grab his side as if he was going to burst at the seams.

"Dante," she asked, bringing herself down to his eye level, "Are you okay?"

He lied in an attempt to reassure her. "Yeah... I'm fine... just a little re—" His words were cut off as he closed his eyes again.

"Dante," Lady called as she jostled him awake again with one hand at his side and one on his shoulder. She pulled back to see that her leather gloved hand was coated in viscous sanguine. She pulled out her cell phone and quickly dialed Trish.

"Hey, Trish... where are you right now? ... Good. So you aren't far from where we are. You know where our mission is, don't you? ... I need you to meet us down here... Yeah, it's Dante and he's bleeding pretty badly and it doesn't look like he's healing... Okay... Okay, see you in ten." Lady ended her called and turned to see Dante coughing up blood. It spilled past his chin, a stark contrast to his pale skin. Dante's head lolled forward.

"Dante," she called again.

"I'm just so sle—," he tried to answer.

She tried to jostle him awake again. He maybe a half-demon, but there was the very real chance that he was going into shock from lack of blood. Too late he was already there and unconsciousness had claimed him in mid-sentence.

"I shoulda known that you'd try to sneak up on me," Dante said to the dark figure standing across from his unconscious body. "Why don't you come at me from the front, if you're so big and bad," he continued to goad. The figure didn't answer and only gave a nonchalant shrug.

"Oh com'on! Bring it on!"

Even with no weapons, Dante lunged at the figure. He wrestled it to the ground like a tackle dummy. Like a macabre tango, blows were exchanged. The Dark figure leaned in to land a punch. Almost rhythmically, Dante dodged and landed some of his own. In and out, side to side the two went at it, the fight looking more like a graceful dance. They soared through the air, magnificently above Lady and Dante's body like a piloted dog fight. It all ended when the figure was firmly planted face down on the ground with Dante straddling it and twisting its arm. "Not today," he ground out, "You're not getting me today."

There was a flash of light and the figure disappeared as quickly as he manifested. Dante blinked and realized wasn't in that old hallway anymore. He slowly opened his eyes to see that he was lying in the back of Trish's car. "Hey Lady, he's waking up," Trish said as she glanced from the road and into the backseat.

"You okay, Dante," Lady finally asked, "We thought we lost you back there."

"Me too," his voice strained by blood that had clotted in his throat.

"How many times have we told you not to be so reckless? You could have died," Trish began a lecture.

"I know... I know. I not going anywhere anytime soon," he said, "Not when I got you two around."

They rode off back to Devil May Cry grateful for what they had. Dante was happy that his tango was over and that he had staved off death... at least for another day.

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So what do you think? I suck at endings... oh well, you know me I'm a whore for reviews so please feel free to feed into my addiction. Thanks. XD


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